That hAwkward Moment
by Captain Narcolepsy
Summary: Shapeshifter!Clint Barton, M to be safe The team has managed to escape an unknown enemy, but one of their own is especially hurt and refuses to accept help. Yes, birds do seem to be a bit narrow-minded sometimes… Iron Man to the rescue?


**That Awkward Moment When You Realize You Have Befriended A Bird**

_**Author:**_ Captain Narcolepsy

_**Disclaimer:**_ If I owned The Avengers, you would've noticed. I promise.

_**Warnings:**_ mentions of torture upon, well, animals + some language. Plus, some OOC-ness is bound to happen, sadly.

_**AN:**_ **About the story:** it's obviously an AU, because, well, someone has dropped a thought in my brain that Clint Barton could in fact be a hawk with shapeshifting abilities, and… Yeah. Also, I do like my home-grown idea of Clint and Tony having a close relationship, so this story may be considered as a capture-shot of some point of its start (can be friendship or m/m, go as you please, you are welcome). Ah, and I consider this piece to be a one-shot, but maybe I will somehow continue on it, we will see how it goes and whether people are interested. **About reviews:** I do appreciate each and every review and reply (at least, I honestly try to) to all of them. Awesome if you review in English, but German and Russian (yeah, I speak Natasha's language. Kinda. Hehe) are also acceptable. Flames will be ignored, and constructive criticism will be greatly appreciated.

I apologize in advance, for my English is far from perfect, as I'm not a native speaker, so please feel free to correct my mistakes, I would be really grateful.

_For more info (it's mostly the same, but in other words + smth else), please visit my profile._

Ah, _**one more thing: **_I consider Clint to be a Saker Falcon, so he looks like this: (remove the spaces) upload .wikimedia wikipedia/ commons/0/0c/ Falco_cherrug_%28Marek_Szczepanek%

and this: upload .wikimedia wikipedia/ commons/thumb/d/d5/ Saker_Falcon_ /800px-Saker_Falcon_

What a cutie. …Ahem.

Sorry for the long annotation, now on with the story.

_**Summary:**_ (Shapeshifter!Clint Barton, M to be safe) The team has managed to escape an unknown enemy, but one of their own is especially hurt and refuses to accept help. Yes, birds do seem to be a bit narrow-minded sometimes… Iron Man to the rescue?

* * *

_I sang of gods and I sang of heroes_

_Of clashing of blades and of bloody battles_

_As far as my falcon was still with me_

_His screaming fully replaced my prayers_

_But it's been a year since he is gone_

_He was taken by a bewitching blizzard_

_A sorcerous snowstorm from faraway lands_

_Came stealing away dearest friend of mine_

-o- -o- -o-_  
_

…Steve and Thor go in opposed circles around the armchair Tony's occupying, and as a background thought it occurs to him that the three of them might look as a helium atom, with him as the proton and the soldier and the demigod as two electrons. Nevermind that the electrons should be _a tiny bit_ smaller, move _a tiny bit_ faster and actually resemble clouds. _'Could use another proton and a couple of neutrons here to complete the impression. The __**Helium**__ Avengers, assemble. Or wait, just one neutron and we could be a hydrogen minus… Well awesome, now I am thinking weird things. Hydrogen minus, **really**,'_ he humorlessly jokes to himself, and that's when the door flies open, and a very angry and devastated and somewhat _disturbed_ – Tony would've never thought she is capable of _feeling_ those emotions, let alone showing them – Natasha stomps in, slamming the door closed behind her mechanically. The 'electrons' pause mid-stride, turning their gazes towards the Russian_. 'This is when they usually come crashing down at the nucleus. If we concede that they are not actually clouds,'_ Tony continues on that train of thought absent-mindedly and tucks in his limbs _just in case_, studying the woman's face.

"He, he doesn't let me!" Natasha squeaks out in a much higher tone of voice than she usually uses. Tony adds that to the list of things he would have never thought she'd do. Anyway, this _is_ emergence, and he as well might not like his usual self. Yup, perched up on an armchair, silent and unmoving, that totally doesn't look like Tony Stark. In fact, Thor pacing around restlessly _and wordlessly_ and Steve going all jumpy and flinchy don't look like their normal selves, too.

"He doesn't?" Steve repeats when he is finished landing back from his yet another start (he's been through too many this day, if someone asks Tony). Thor looks surprised, and Stark is quite sure he looks the same. Seriously, guys, to think that _Clint _would not let _Natasha _near him, this is just weird. On the other hand, today has been_ anything _but normal, so yeah, no big surprise this time.

Yet it _is_ surprising. When they finally made it to the Tower, it was Natasha who silently decided to assist Bruce, and everyone else agreed just as silently, because who would be better at calming Clint down than his long-term partner.

But, nothing seems to work like it should.

"No!" Natasha almost wails, picking a brown feather off her sleeve absent-mindedly and twirling it between her fingers. "He just doesn't seem to hear me. Or recognize. Or anything, really. Bruce is at loss already."

Tony nods in acknowledgement. Bruce knows how to make things better for Clint, but first the archer needs to actually _become human_, and that's where the problem is. He seems to have gone off his mind. Tony doesn't blame him for it, though. On the contrary: he would've been surprised, if Clint _hadn't_ gone crazy after what he'd been put through.

Tony growls silently, recalling the events of the day. Alright, there will be time to dwell on it later. Now they have to do something, so that Barton doesn't kill himself accidentally before Bruce can fix him. The man stands up and ignores the way his limbs protest at the sudden movement. The sedative hasn't washed out of him completely yet, and he still feels kind of unstable sometimes, but now is not the right moment to think of himself _(seriously, not thinking of oneself, that's what living as a team does to __**normal**__ people)_, so Tony stretches his legs quickly and strides past Natasha, catching her studying and somewhat amazed look. _'The hell are you doing'_ and _'Hope it'll work'_, that's what her gaze tells him. Tony nods and walks out of the room.

He is not sure what he is going to do, but, well, he might have a reason to think he will be the one to break through to Clint and somehow persuade him to shapeshift. He doesn't know how, but he is _Tony Stark _with_ Goddamn _for his middle name_,_ so he'll manage it, one way or another.

It's a long way to the labs, and he thinks of the whole situation as he walks down the corridors.

…It's been nearly a year since Loki's attack, and something like ten months since they kind of settled down in the Tower. Yup, it took them almost a year of living side by side with Clint to _accidentally_ find out he was a shapeshifter. Later Clint would tell them, he usually flied around at night, when no one could notice him, but that one time he decided to go flying in the middle of the day, and that was when Tony spotted a bird of prey up in the sky of New York. He was mildly surprised, yes, but his surprise turned into a major one when he watched the bird dive into one of the open windows on Clint's floor. Curiosity urged him on as he descended from the top floor to Clint's lower one, building a mental map in his head to find out which room exactly the bird was in.

"Yo, Clint, I saw-" he was cut short as he froze with his mouth agape, staring at a, well, naked archer's back, with dark weathers sinking in quickly under his skin and disappearing there.

"The hell!" he choked out as Barton turned around in a whirl and rushed to pick up his discarded clothes from the floor.

"Hasn't anyone _taught_ you to _knock_ before you enter?" the man snarled, and Tony was surprised to notice a hint of fear in his voice.

"Why, and hasn't anyone taught _you_ not to hide stuff like being a were_bird_ from those you live with?" he retorted.

"This has_ nothing_ to do with any of you, okay?"

An argument followed. Clint felt very much distressed about the fact his cover had been blown, and Tony was thrilled to find out he was _in fact the first man_ to learn about this side of Clint's life. Clint demanded to promise he would keep his mouth shut about the whole incident, and in return Tony said the archer should tell him everything. So finally, after several angry huffs (Clint) and a satisfied smirk (Tony), the two sat down on Barton's bed, and he told him the whole thing.

He was, in fact, a falcon. _"I don't remember it clearly, but, well, one day I just woke up as a human. That was a real shock." _Soon after that he learned to shapeshift on his own accord, and ended up in S.H.I.E.L.D., noticed for his outstanding skills. _"But really, no one ever knew that I'm a hawk."_ Not even Natasha? Or Fury? _"Nope. Not a single being."_

Finally, they decided it would be better for Clint to tell the news the whole team. Clint was against the idea at first, but Tony pointed out that he had found out at some point of time, and the others would follow eventually.

Everyone became used to the thought pretty soon. Natasha was mad, of course, but not for long.

...And then it all was fucked up.

One day Clint went flying and didn't come back. He would disappear sometimes for several days, but this time even Thor sensed something was out of place with the 'Bird-Man'. So they went searching.

And hopelessly fell for the silliest trap imaginable. All of them, Bruce (not even the Hulk; _Bruce_) included.

Clint's captors' plan was simple. They catch the bird, the others come for the bird, they capture the whole team and have all of their secrets. About the Avengers, the S.H.I.E.L.D., everything.

Tony shudders at the memory.

Everything that followed their capture (darts with sedative, how _original_) felt like a really stupid quest-type video-game with dungeons, chains and bad guys with their evil laughter. They awoke in a large room, cuffed to a wall around their wrists, necks, waists and ankles, sedated heavily enough to not be able to move a single muscle, but still being able to think relatively clearly. _'Just the right dose to beat secrets out of us,'_ Tony thought grimly.

But no one was going to beat _them_.

They have chosen their victim correctly, for Barton in his original form was obviously the weakest of them all. And they seemed to have sedated him as well, so that he could not shapeshift. It looked like they had found out Clint's strange ability when they captured him; that would explain why they thought the rest of the team would actually care enough to come for a mere bird.

…And all the team could do was watch helplessly, as the men were slowly but steadily bringing the small bird to the edge – kicking, beating, pulling feathers out, – waiting for the Avengers to give up and tell them everything. It felt weird and utterly wrong, yet they could do nothing about it.

Banner slowly raised his head, gazing at the horrible sight, and blinked several times groggily, each blink adding another green sparkle to his eyes. The only thing the evil men did not take in consideration was the fact that the drug was wearing off of Bruce _just a little bit _faster than they expected it to.

* * *

_Roads intertwine in a tight tangle of snakes in love,_

_And wings go numb in volcanoes' foggy breath_

-o- -o- -o-_  
_

"JARVIS, tell Banner I'm coming, so that he'll be prepared," Tony orders on his way down to the laboratory.

"_Sure, sir,"_ the disembodied voice replies, "_biological hazard costume, biosafety levels two to three, will be waiting for you at-_"

"Screw the costume, man, you _serious_?"

"_My apologies, sir, but I have to insist that-_"

"_God, _JARVIS, this is not just some random bird. I am _quite sure_ Barton has no chicken flu or whatever," Tony spats almost angrily as he nears the lab.

"_As you say, sir_," the voice sounds apologetically when Tony enters the room, shrugging on one of Banner's coats on his way. It's a bit narrow in shoulders, but it will do. It's not like they are going to operate, right? Tony sincerely hopes they are not.

Bruce (of course, in one of his regular coats as well) looks up at him tiredly when he nears the table covered with white blankets. There is a bird on it, a battered but still somewhat gracious hawk (Tony doesn't know a shit about birds, but Barton has told him some time ago he is a Saker (_"Though I'm quite small for a Saker"_)), and for one long moment he just takes in the sight of the disheveled being, with brown and white feathers scattered around. The bird is restless and struggles to keep the humans as far away as possible, though it's obviously difficult with a broken wing and marked limp, and Tony is sure there are more injuries beneath the feathers, because he _saw_…

"I drugged him, so that he wouldn't thrash around and hurt himself further," Bruce speaks up, and Tony notices the way the hawk's eyes are slightly glazed over. "But it's wearing off already: I'm not willing to give Clint large doses." Geez, he is even capable of sedating birds. Sometimes Stark wonders if the scientist knows _everything_. Really, he thinks that if he ever walks up to Bruce with something like _'You know, I was in space, and then that giant flying thing collides with me, and well, one of their three-headed stone-sheep on board broke its seventh trunk on middle head because of the collision, care to help?'_ Bruce will definitely respond with something along the lines of _'You will assist me during the surgery, and while we are performing it, I'll talk to you about insurance conditions on that one'_. _Really, _man.

Tony nods and steps up to the table, and the bird tries to lash out at him, spreading the wings (asymmetrically, the man notices with a wince) and screaming threateningly, though there's a certain waver to the voice. A kind of a pathetic sight, in fact. Yes, it is Clint, but right now the being is simply a wounded and cornered 'die struggling'-type animal, which is desperate enough to put up a worthy final fight to everyone who dares come close, and it matters not whether this 'everyone' is willing to hurt or to heal.

"Whoa, whoa," Tony raises his hands slowly, not wanting to frighten the terrified hawk any more. "Clint. Clint? You recognize me?"

The bird pauses for a moment, and suddenly rises in the air in seek for escape, flapping his wings with obvious effort, showering the two with feathers.

"JARVIS, I need a hemisphere like _right now_, three meters radius!" the man urgently says, remembering not to raise his voice.

The almost invisible power hemisphere appears immediately, covering both humans and the hawk. The bird thrashes around, trying desperately to get through the force field, but soon his little energy is sapped, and he descends on the floor, limping heavily with wings spread to the farthest from the two scientists place and shrinking into a corner between floor and the wall of the hemisphere.

The two men are clearly shaken by the sudden outburst, and a few seconds later Bruce takes a step to Clint, but Tony stops him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Let me try," he says, and Bruce nods and steps back, watching the other man circle the table and squat down in front of the bird. The man has to support himself with one hand when he suddenly loses balance and slips sideways just a little bit. _Oh yeah, the drug. _'_Sons of bitches,'_ he sends a ray of love to the captors and is ready to voice some snarky comment, but sobers immediately, glancing down at Clint. Tony Stark is famous for his loose tongue (not only for it, but, well, you get the thing), but he pretty well damn knows when to be serious. And _now_ is a good time for it.

"Hey," he whispers almost gently, and the hawk turns his head to study the man nervously.

"Hey," Tony repeats, not really knowing how to continue. "Um. Clint. Clint Barton. I am your friend. Tony Stark. That," he gives a little jerk with his head towards the doctor, "is Bruce Banner. Your friend too, kinda," the man can't help shrugging a little. "We want to help you, alright? Do you hear me?" he asks hopefully.

The bird turns his body a bit towards the man and lets out a small tentative weep, which sounds like both 'I am hurting' and 'I wish to trust you, but I don't know if I should'.

"Easy there, little one," of course, that's not the kind of a name he would give _Barton_, but right now he is talking to a wounded bird, so would you kindly shut up, thank you very much.

"Clint," he continues, pausing every now and then to give the other one time for his words to sink in. "We need to fix you. But. Before we do that, you need to shapeshift. Understand?"

The hawk lets out another weep and flutters his disheveled wings with broken feathers sticking out at awkward angles here and there.

"Come here," Tony reaches out with his left hand for the bird to climb up on his palm. This is going to hurt, but it's not like he has a glove or something. The hawk starts and tries to shrink deeper into his corner from the movement, eyeing the man with fear.

"Listen, I will not hurt you," he speaks slowly and softly, and his voice seems to have a calming effect, for the bird stops cowering and stands up tentatively. Tony lowers his hand even more, and finally the hawk hops up on it heavily, having to use his beak to support himself, sinking it deep in the hand's tender flesh along with sharp talons. The man cannot contain a muffled growl of pain, and the hawk spreads his wings and tail in worry, but Tony bites his lip and falls silent, so the bird settles down more persistently.

Slowly and carefully, he stands up with the bird perched up on his hand, and turns to face the table. _'Damn it,'_ he thinks, _'I forgot there were blankets on the table. Could've used those instead of a glove. Well __**fuck**__.'_ Bruce is watching them wide-eyed and genuinely satisfied, because _finally _someone managed to calm Clint down, and this means he will not hurt himself even more, trying to fight off the doctor and his assistants.

"What's next, Sklifosovsky?" the man asks Banner, using a Russian doctor's name (he heard Natasha calling Bruce that, and kind of liked the idea). The heavy bird shifts nervously, gripping his palm, and Tony can't stop a grimace of pain from distorting his face. _**Could have used**__ a blanket, god damn it._

"Clint, now you have to shapeshift, my friend," Bruce softly speaks. Clint is facing Tony, so he turns his head to the doctor and crows in response, furrowing his feathers uncomfortably. "I know this might be uneasy, but you have to. I'm sorry, but I can't cure you while you are still in bird form_." Ahha, so there __**is**__ something Bruce can't do._ "I mean, whatever I do to you now will not do you any good when you finally shapeshift." _Well __**that**__ line was __**uncalled for**__, Banner in the saddle, Stark waves a tiny white flag, satisfied?_

The bird whimpers, as if unable to decide. Each movement shoots flares up Tony's arm, but he fights the pain stoically. Damn, he will _totally_ put up a monument to himself for this heroism when they're finished. Finally, the hawk seems to agree with Banner's words and turns his head back to Tony. The man glances up at Bruce and watches as the other one makes a strange movement, mimicking the way Tony's left hand is set, then placing right hand palm down some distance above the left one, and then circling them around each other. Tony understands the gesture immediately: he has to lay Clint on his back. Alright, _that_ is going to deserve a separate monument.

"Look, Clint, now I have to lay you down on your back, alright?" The bird shakes nervously, raising injured left leg and shifting his weight to the right one, making Tony cringe. "I know you don't (his voice did _not_ just waver, okay), don't like this idea, and trust me, neither do I, but it will be better this way. So will you let me..?"

The hawk gives him a pained and doubtful glance, and finally makes a barely decipherable movement. Tony blinks, deciding whether or not he has just seen a bird _nod_. Seems like he has, though, so he gently places a hand on the hawk's trembling back, sighs deeply and slowly starts flipping Clint backwards. The bird lets out a squeak and spreads out wings, instinctively trying to regain the balance, but Tony doesn't stop, murmuring calming nonsense to Clint until he finally lays him down on the table and pulls his right hand from under the bird. Tentatively, the hawk unclenches his talons from Tony's flesh (which practically_ screams_ in pain and joy that the offending _things_ are finally gone) and stretches his legs carefully, feathers fluttering on his chest with each sharp breath.

Tony walks over to Bruce, and both of the step back to create room for Clint, while the scientist carefully orders to dissolve the hemisphere. The bird turns his head up and sideways to gaze at the two, and seems to finally relax as Bruce nods encouragingly. For several long seconds the only thing moving in the lab is Clint's chest, and then there is a whirl of feathers around the place, and Tony has to put his forearm over his eyes to avoid catching a feather in the eye, and when he finally lowers his limb, it's over already, and a very much _human_ Clint is lying on the table, unmoving.

The two near him carefully, studying the battered body. It indeed looks bad, considering the fact the bruises are no longer hidden beneath the feathers. As Bruce examines Clint for inner injuries, Tony watches as the man struggles to come to full consciousness.

"Rise up and shine," he chirps cockily. The archer finally forces his eyes open and gives a small smile.

"Scr'w you," he swears good-naturedly in hoarse voice, coughing a little.

"Nice to see you, too."

"You l'k like an Indian," the archer gives him a lopsided and surprisingly very smug grin, and Tony immediately runs his right hand through his hair, combing spotted brown-white feathers out of it.

"Well _thank you._ You know, it's an inevitable aftereffect of befriending a bird that doesn't really like to keep feathers attached to their respective places," the man replies in mock-offense.

That's when Bruce finishes examining Clint and joins the conversation.

"Great to have you back. Now, what I see is five broken ribs on left side, three on right (those bird bones of yours don't seem to be exactly strong), both bones broken in left forearm, and your left foot is a real mess. I'm not even mentioning the bruises and cuts. I'm afraid we have to transit you to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s hospital, now that you have shapeshifted."

"No," Clint drops firmly. "No S.H.I.E.L.D."

"But what stuff I have here is barely enough."

"No S.H.I.E.L.D.," he repeats. "Please."

Tony watches Bruce' inner struggle.

"Um. Is something hurting apart from what I've mentioned?" Bruce asks and raises a hand before Clint can reply. "And I need an honest answer. If you happen to have internal bleeding, there is no goddamn way you can stop me from sending you to the hospital."

Everyone falls silent as Clint seems to listen to what his body says. Finally, he shakes his head carefully.

"Nope. No internal bleeding, doc," he smiles. Tony would _so not_ be surprised if the goddamn soldier saluted, with that mock-military tone of his.

"Alright," Bruce says tiredly after a pause. "Then you might stay here."

Banner turns around and walks off to one of the lab's corners to pull out meds from a large refrigerator. Tony watches him for a while and turns his gaze to Clint's face, cringing to see a swelling starting to form above his right eyebrow. Barton notices it and smiles again.

"Stop looking at me like I'm dying. And… what is that?" he points at Stark's hand with his chin, looking concerned.

"Ah, that. Well, your pedicure was a bit… aggressive. You also gave me a peck, and no, not _that_ kind of a peck. Much sharper one. And if you say you're "sowwy 'bout wat", I'm gonna kick your poor lazy ass, no matter how sick you are right now."

"Sick? Who's sick here? I'm peachy, just dandy, y'know," Clint laughs a little.

"Of course," Tony replies sarcastically. "Would've never guessed you'd let _me_ calm you down instead of Natasha," he suddenly says, all sarcasm gone. "Or instead of whomever else, really."

"_Seriously_, 'whomever else'? Imagine Thor giving me that famous hug of his 'to calm down the little bird," Clint says and Tony shudders at the _so unwanted_ mental image. Okay, he _is_ better than Thor at that point, hallelujah.

"My guess is that Bruce would have to tend to a _pancake_ after _that_," Stark continues the game.

"Yeeeaaah…" the other one draws out in a distracted manner, seeming to have already dropped the subject. Clint shrugs carefully and speaks up again, changing the tone to a more serious one. "Anyway, it was you who first found out I shapeshift, so I guess it's only fair."

Tony nods solemnly and the two friends exchange genuine smiles.


End file.
